25. Ruby
25
RUBY
I hear my mom talking to someone and I throw back the covers on my bed. Goosebumps immediately pop on my bare arms and legs, and the room sways out from under me like I’m drunk. I didn’t even have a drink last night. At least, I don’t think I did. It’s all a bit vague, but I’m still left with the lingering sense of uneasiness that I haven’t been able to shake since I first called Karl Weiss.
I wait for the dizziness to pass. My heart is racing, and I can’t seem to slow it down, even when I take deep breaths.
It must be stress related. I remember my roommate in college talking about an auntie who lost all her hair when she discovered that her husband had been cheating on her for years, had a whole other family in a different state. She ended up with heart problems and had to have a triple bypass before she was forty-five.
I’ve been so worried about my dad, and everything with Mom and Karl Weiss, that it’s obviously starting to affect me. I need some downtime, but I can’t bear to think of my dad in the hospital waiting for me to visit. He needs me. I can’t let him down, not when he has always been there for me, no matter how sick he was. Even when he could barely speak after his first stroke, he was still the one who wanted to hear everything about my school day.
I open my bedroom door. The house is quiet again now. “Mom?”
Nothing.
I go back for my robe, my teeth chattering. The heating must not have clicked on yet. I have no idea what time it is, or how long I’ve been asleep, but the house has settled into its own version of twilight, so I’m guessing that it must be late afternoon or evening.
“Mom?”
Sounds reach me from the kitchen, and I walk along the hallway, surprised when my shoulder keeps brushing the wall like I can’t even walk a straight line. I open the kitchen door, and she’s staring out the window, a cup of coffee in one hand, and the house phone in the other.
“You’re awake.” She puts them down on the counter and rushes over to me, her expression faltering. “Why are you out of bed? You should’ve called me.”
She eases me into a seat at the table and flicks the kettle on to boil, dropping a teabag into my favorite cup.
“I’ll make you a green tea. It’ll flush this virus or whatever it is out of you.”
“You think it’s a virus?” My head feels heavy like a bowling ball, and I cup my chin in both hands to hold it upright.
“Of course, sweetie. You look dreadful, and you’re still shivering, look at you.” She pulls a blanket out of the storage cupboard and places it over my shoulders. “You’ve been running a temperature all day too.”
She fills the mug with boiling water and places it on the table in front of me. The smell makes me feel nauseous. I try sliding it away from me and manage to spill some across the table.
“I’ll get it!” Mom grabs a kitchen towel and mops up the spill, her mouth set into a narrow line. “There’s only half a cup left now, but it will have to do.”
I shake my head. “I can’t drink it, Mom. The smell…”
“Hold your nose. It’s good for you.”
She keeps moving around the kitchen, opening cupboard doors and straightening appliances. I can’t keep up with her, so I stare into the cup at the teabag that’s bleeding green water and try to focus on what I wanted to ask her. Something woke me up. My mom was talking to someone, only now I know she must’ve been on the phone.
“Who was that?” It’s an effort just to speak.
“Who was what, sweetie?” Mom’s gaze drifts around the room and settles on the phone. “Oh, I called the hospital to let your dad know why we’ve not visited today.”
I swallow a mouthful of green tea and grimace, hiding my tears behind the cup. “Has Harry called?”
“No, sweetie.” She stops fidgeting with her hands and turns around to face me, her smile fading when she notices my damp eyes. “He must be busy. That’s what it’s like when you marry a businessman. You end up playing second fiddle to the company, and even lower down the scale when you have kids.”
The tears start flowing and I can’t stop them. I down the rest of the drink, spluttering when pain crashes through my abdomen again and makes me choke. The empty cup rolls out of my hand and across the table as I bend down and double over.
“Ruby!” Mom is on her knees in front of me, stroking my hair away from my face. “What is it? Where does it hurt?”
I cradle my stomach with both arms, rocking back and forth, afraid that the green tea will come back up and my mom will force me to drink another one. “Cramps,” I manage to gasp out between shallow breaths.
Her eyes narrow. “Are you bleeding?”
“No.” I squeeze my eyes shut, but it only makes the pain flare cold and white behind my eyelids.
“Ruby.” Her voice is firm, and I open my eyes again. “You’re not pregnant, are you?”
Heat floods my cheeks, and suddenly I’m too hot. I stand up too quickly, tiny stars spiraling in front of my eyes, and try to yank my robe off, but I lose my balance and hurtle forward, unable to stop myself.
My mom catches me before I hit the floor. “It’s okay, Ruby, I’ve got you.” She wraps her arms around me and helps me back onto my feet, and I can’t remember the last time I was this close to my mom. “Let’s get you back into bed, and I’ll call the doctor.”
“No.” I grip her hand tightly. “No, I don’t want to see the doctor. It’s nothing.”
“It is not nothing, Ruby. Look at you.” Like I even want to see my reflection in the mirror right now.
She supports me all the way to my room, holds my hand when she sits me on the bed, takes off my robe, and slides my legs under the covers, tucking them under my chin.
I watch her closely, wishing I got to see this side of her more often.
“Mom.” I grip her hand, binding her to me. “Don’t call the doctor.”
She holds my gaze, stares right through me as if trying to see what’s going on inside my head. “You would tell me if you were pregnant, wouldn’t you?”
I nod, not trusting myself to speak.
“Do you want me to get you a test?”
“No.” I can’t concentrate. I can’t remember if I’m late or when I’m due, but the cramps in my stomach are worse than usual. “Mom?” I sound so puny, so feeble, like a little girl again, scared to ask when Daddy is coming home from the office.
Is this what she meant? Did she feel shunted aside when I came along, and my dad spent every waking hour in the office? I never realized before that she might’ve felt like an outsider because me and my dad were so close.
I need her now though, and she’s here for me, stepping in to fill my dad’s shoes.
“It hurts.”
“I know, sweetie. Close your eyes, and I’ll go get some painkillers from the pharmacy.”
I must drift off to sleep, my brain switching off and giving me a chance to heal, because I don’t even hear the door close behind her.
I’m in the bridal store, trying on a wedding gown, while my mom waits in the fitting room for me to come out and show her. The dress has a tight bodice covered in diamantes that catch the overhead light and cast sparkling patterns across the mirror in front of me. The skirt is full, layers and layers of frothy lace bulking it out, and I don’t even know how I’ll get through the door wearing it.
“Harry will love this dress,” I say to the assistant who is behind me, lacing up the bodice.
“Is Harry your fiancé?” Her face appears over my shoulder in the reflection.
I smile back at her. “Yes. He always wanted a big white wedding; it’s his dream.”
“Yours, too.” The assistant is in front of me now, straightening the neckline and teasing my hair over my shoulders.
I hesitate. Is it my dream too? I stare at her makeup which is too thick and breathe in her perfume which she must have bathed in. It's so cloying.
I can’t remember. Why can’t I remember? Why am I going along with what Harry wants if this isn’t what I want too?
“You look beautiful.” She stands aside and gestures for me to look in the mirror, and I think she must say that to all the brides. It’s part of the job—she won’t get her commission if I don’t buy the dress.
I force myself to stare at my reflection, starting from the floor and working my way upwards. The dress is stunning. It’s like something from a fairytale, you know, the one where the poor servant girl wins the heart of the prince, and they live happily ever after.
But when I reach my face, it doesn’t look like me.
Who is this woman staring back at me, her face pale, her eyes wide, and her lips parted like she’s about to scream? I turn away from those dark eyes. “I have to go.”
I push my way out of the fitting room, the dress squashed in at the sides to accommodate the doorway, and stumble into the waiting room where my mom is on her feet. She gasps, hands clamped over her mouth at the first glimpse of her daughter in a wedding dress.
I stop dead. I can’t tell if she loves it or hates it, but I realize that I want her to love it. I want her to cry real tears and tell me that I’ll be the most beautiful bride ever. But instead, she says, “Oh my God, Ruby, what have you done?”
Huh?
I peer down at the dress as I hear a rip from the waistline. “No,” I mutter under my breath. “What’s happening?”
I’m frozen, my feet taking root through the floor, growing stringy tendrils and keeping me here to witness what’s unfolding. My belly is swelling, growing larger by the second, stretching the heavy fabric, diamantes pinging everywhere. One hits me in the eye, and I try to bat it away, but the dress is so tight that I can’t move my arms.
Then there is a horrendous rip, and the dress gapes open to reveal my swollen tummy. Pain tears through me, dragging me onto my knees.
“Mom, help me.” I’m sobbing. The baby is forcing its way out of me, tearing my body in two, and I don’t even know how I got here, how any of this happened. “Mom, make it stop.”
“It’s okay, sweetie, I’m here.”
“Mom?” She sounds far away, and I can hear her, but I can’t see her. “Mom? Where are you?”
“I’m right here. It’s okay, Ruby, I’m not going anywhere.”
A cool hand strokes my forehead, and I lean into it, trying to find her, waiting for her to make it stop.
“You’ve been dreaming, Ruby. The fever is making you delirious. Wake up, and I’ll give you some painkillers to bring your temperature down. That’s it, sweetie.”
I follow the familiar sound of her voice out of the bridal store, which disintegrates around me, and back into my bedroom. When I open my eyes, it’s dark. My bedside lamp is on, making a golden puddle of light on the floor, and the curtains are closed, making the room appear half the size.
“It was only a dream, Ruby.” Mom’s face appears above me. “You gave me quite a fright. Sounded like you were fighting off a monster.”
The dream— nightmare —breaks into tiny, jagged fragments that fall away as I focus on my mom’s soothing voice. My pulse slowly regulates, my breathing becoming more normal. I can only remember snippets, the torn wedding dress, the assistant’s heavy beige makeup, the pain tearing me apart.
I blink. I dreamed that I was pregnant. No, not just pregnant, I was giving birth right there in the bridal store wearing the dress fit for a princess.
Pain rises in my stomach again, and I roll onto my side retching into a bowl that has somehow materialized next to the bed while I’ve been sleeping. I grip my mom’s hand and close my eyes waiting for it to pass.
“Mom, what’s wrong with me?”
“I don’t know, honey. I’m going to call the doctor.”
I nod, clinging onto her with my eyes. “Did Harry call?”
She blinks, her expression faltering. “He did.”
“What did you tell him?”
“I told him that you were sick.”
There’s more, but she’s holding it close to her chest.
“What? What is it?”
“I begged him to come, Ruby, but he said… He said that he’s too busy right now.”